The Thin Line Between Love and Hate

Surely (yes, I just called you Shirley) everyone has heard the expression “there’s a thin line between love and hate,” right?  I have never understood this expression.  Well, not until recently anyhow.  I mean, love and hate are two opposite extremes, yes?  Love and hate are about as alike as Democrats and Republicans.  Left and right.  Up and down.  Catholic and Muslim.  Black and white.  Cats and dogs.  You get the point, right?  They’re opposites.  Good.  Moving on.

So recently I went from loving someone fiercely to loathing someone intensely.  I felt used, betrayed, mistreated, and deceived.  All at once, my feelings for that person crossed that imaginary (or at least I thought it was imaginary) thin line, a line I never noticed was there, and I suddenly wanted nothing to do with that person again.  If she were to disappear from the face of the earth I wouldn’t blink an eye.

 

I’ve been analyzing my feelings and how they came to be what they currently are.  This is the first time I’ve ever intensely disliked someone I at one point couldn’t imagine living my life without.  It’s a very alien and not altogether pleasant feeling.

The conclusion I came to is this:  I gave this person my life.  I gave her my heart.  I placed it in her care.  I trusted her with it.  I expected her to treat it well.  I believed her when she said forever.  I believed her when she said she would do whatever it took to make us work.  I believed her when she told me that she wouldn’t make me a single parent again.  I put my faith in her.

Then she broke both promises.  She shattered my trust.  Not only did she not do whatever it took, she didn’t do anything at all to make it work.  The sole responsibility to make everything work was placed on my shoulders.  Last I checked, it takes two to tango.  Not that I tango, but if I did I certainly couldn’t do it alone.

Resentment built.  Anger crested.  Hate flourished.  It’s like there was a dam built in the river of my heart holding all my hatred at bay.  Then, it was destroyed.  I can’t stand being around her now.  The sight of her infuriates me.  The sound of her voice is like raking fingernails across the chalkboard.  When she texts me my blood boils almost instantly.  I want her to just disappear.  Vanish.  Take a permanent vacation.  Quit this place forthwith.

Unfortunately that’s not going to happen.  I’m going to have to deal with this for at least the next 16 years.  I’m going to have a constant reminder of that betrayal.  Every exchange.  Every school conference.  Every birthday.  Every sports game.

It’s truly a sad thing when this line is crossed.  Or broken.  I haven’t decided which is the more apt term for it.  My logical mind tells me that these things happen.  People fall out of love.  It sucks, but it happens.  My heart, however, can’t get past the broken promises.  It can’t get past the lies.  The betrayals.  It won’t forgive these things.  Til death do us part?  Evidently not.

Making things worse is that this person believes this is all totally acceptable.  We, in her mind, should continue to be friends.  Like nothing bad has happened.  We should still be able to hang out.  No bad blood.  No blood no foul.  But that’s not me.  I’m not Jesus.  I don’t turn the other cheek.  If I’ve been wronged I’m not going to simply look past it.  Bygones are never bygones.

When it comes to love and hate the heart rules.  The mind is simply an innocent bystander asking, “WTF?”  My heart is broken.  My heart is shattered.  Even a swiffer couldn’t pick up all the fine granules it has been reduced to.  And for that, it hates you.  For that, it will never forgive.  For that, we will never be friends.  For that, the thin line between love and hate has been exposed and crossed.

Query:  Have you, dearest reader, ever crossed this line?  Have your feelings for someone ever gone from love to hate more quickly than it takes minute rice to cook?